


Random Access Memory

by Fawkes_Rinzler



Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: But I won't abandon this fic, Gen, I promise, Incomplete, Infrequent updating, Post-Tron: Legacy, The Tron 3 we never got, will eventually be slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-05-25 10:10:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6190825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fawkes_Rinzler/pseuds/Fawkes_Rinzler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The I/O Tower has gone dark. Tron doesn't even have any Discs to make it work anyways...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've always found the I/O towers to be very symbolic of hope in the Tron Universe. I suppose that's what started this.

The gentle, rhythmic sloshing of the waves was all that could be heard for miles. Despite the stagnation in the air, it seemed like a gentle wind was stirring a cold draft amongst the Sea of Simulation. Laying on the shore, legs still exposed to the voxelized waves, a single Program's white-blue circuits were flickering bright and dim, not quite decided on whether to be awake or asleep.

The landscape was barren. Black rock lay as far as the eye could see, save one, lone tower jutting out from a flat terrain. Without the usual beam of blue light that it would shoot to the sky, the building was useless, dark, and haunting. A monument of a time lost to the ages. Only those familiar with that time would even understand what the Tower’s purpose used to be. 

The Program laying on the shore finally moved, his circuits brightening fully, his Black gridsuit falling away to reveal white, system light suit. 

Tron blinked slowly, his pupils shuttering as he stared blankly across the distant landscape. The rocky monoliths that had scattered the Sea of Simulation were gone. Flat expanses of nothingness were all that could be seen. He felt.....Alone.... Empty..... Tron looked around, his hand going to his Identity Disc. Gone...

Tron swallowed his hard, a User habit he had taken on. He then let out a shuddering breath as he memories came back to him. Sam Flynn. An ISO. One miscalculated risk. Both of his Discs had flown off into the nothingness....

His system immediately began to fold in on itself at the realization, circuits flashing aggressively as Tron looked around, more lost than ever. A quiet, subdued part of his code reminded him that he was experiencing what Flynn once referred to as an "Anxiety attack". There was a fearful pounding in his chest, his stomach felt light and fluttery, his head hurt, and he wanted nothing more than to run. 

So Tron, remembering what Flynn had taught him many cycles ago, knelt down and closed his eyes. "I am Tron," he recited from memory, "My user, Alan_1, created me for the sole purpose of protecting the System that I am on. I am a Program. I serve an important function. I am Tron."

It helped. Tron felt more centered, more zen. Flynn so proud.

Flynn...

Tron opened his eyes and stood slowly. He wasn't glitching. He knew the reason why the Grid, his Grid, was so barren. Flynn had finally reintegrated the system, and himself with it. But Tron, not being apart of Flynn's Grid, had remained functioning. A lost, silent spirit in the graveyard of the Grid. And the I/O tower, of course, stood with him. The moment the Grid was brought into existence, an I/O tower stood, ready to receive all information from Flynn... It was still there. Even if it was no longer lit, it would remain as long as the Grid existed. 

Tron began to walk along the beach, finding himself faced with the horrible dilemma of what he should do next. What could he do next, even. If the Grid remained untended to for long, as it probably would regardless of whether or not a User had it, Gridbugs would start appearing, and Tron had no way of defending himself. Even if Sam Flynn reappeared on the Grid in one User day, if he ever even wanted to, in the User World, that would still be 137 milicycles on the Grid. Nearly 7 weeks for Tron to try and survive, and 7 weeks for the Gridbugs to fester...

Tron stopped his wandering as he felt his foot nudge something soft. Glancing down, Tron found himself smiling as he picked up Flynn's old robe, "Of course...Even when you're not here, you're watching out for me, Flynn," Tron murmured as he picked up the coat and wrapped it around himself carefully. He then turned and began to make his way to the I/O tower. If he had to wait a week, fine, if he had to wait a year, he’d find a way.

If he had to wait another 1050 years.....

He'd wait that too.

As Tron walked into the I/O tower, he was immediately filled with a deep sense of regret. Cycles and Cycles of memories were flooding him in that instance. Contacting Alan_1 to defeat MCP, talking with Flynn about a new Grid, getting copied and transferred to the New Grid, seeing Flynn again, waiting here with Clu to receive their orders from Flynn....

Now, Flynn was gone. The old ENCOM system was gone. The MCP was gone, Yori was gone, Clu was gone, and Tron’s Discs, the very root of his existence, were gone as well....

"I don't mind being alone!" Tron called to the silence, knowing that no one would answer, "It's not having any direction that is making me anxious! Just... I wish someone would tell me what was needed of me."

Tron curled up beside the I/O console and closed his eyes. He was still tired.. Maybe he'd just power down for a bit... It wouldn't hurt. He just needed a moment...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time posting this chapter. XP 
> 
> CHAPTER IS DRAFT!

When Tron awoke from his recharge, his functions felt clearer. Time between his system’s purge of Rinzler had started to pass, which meant Tron’s memory was starting to return. He stood slowly and looked around the inside of the I/O tower. It was still dark, of course, but Tron imagined that, once he got his Identity Discs back, that’d be easily resolved. 

“So, to prioritize matters-- Or as Flynn used to say, first things first,” Tron smiled to himself at the silly nonsense phrase, “I have to find my Discs.”

Tron looked around the dark I/O tower, lips pursed. The first floor room was fairly featureless without the circuits active, but Tron could still make out the central panel, the User Information Readout monitors, and of course, the Disc Uploading Tower. Without any lights beyond Tron’s blue circuits. Tron sudden looked down again, his face falling into a frown. 

“The Encom system light suit,” Tron murmured thoughtfully as his fingers brushed along the smooth frame of the ornate suit, customized for the Grid. It wasn’t nearly as clunky or thick as it was on Encom. It looked like a Gridsuit, but the color was white, like a siren, and the circuits were so much more ornate and unique. 

Against the dark expanses of the Grid, Tron would stick out like a rogue line of code, “I’ll have to move quickly,” Tron murmured to himself as he dropped his hands to his side and looked around. He understood the concept of rudimentary repurposing. If there were still natural rock formations further out, closer to the Outlands, he’d be able to make a weapon of some sorts. It wouldn’t be his Discs, but anything would help.

Marking the I/O tower in his functions, Tron gathered up his courage and walked out the front entrance. The I/O tower would make a good base. The Gridbugs wouldn’t spawn inside and it was the only structure that Tron knew was still standing. Maybe, if he found others, he’d try making a network of safe houses, but until then, the I/O tower was his safest bet.

Grabbing the baton that still rested faithfully at his side, Tron ran forward, activated the Light cycle, and sped off in the direction of where the Rectifier had probably been destroyed. The flatness black landscape made riding the light cycle easy, although Tron suspected that would become less so the farther he got from the I/O tower.

The Grid’s scenery raced by, unremarkable and featureless, leaving Tron with nothing to ponder but himself and the future. A few thousand cycles ago, Tron seemed to recall himself in a similar situation, racing alone along a system, left to wonder what the future held. Of course, he still had his directive then. He was still uploaded on the ENCOM network back then. 

“I wonder how it’s running now,” Tron murmured to himself as he approached the coordinates of The Rectifier’s last location. Derezzing the light cycle, Tron noticed that, in the distance, the old Outlands had not lost their unrefined state. Picking up his baton and mounting it to his side, Tron began to wander. A younger, more refined Program would have had some form of built in homing signal to help them find their Discs. But then, younger Programs were more prone to losing their Discs. Tron didn’t have this feature, but he’d never lost his Discs before. 

“Flynn would be laughing at me,” Tron said suddenly, affronted by the realization, “He’d be laughing because he’d be here too.... Helping me to look,” Tron touched the fabric of the robe that he’d forgotten he was wearing, “Maybe he still is...” The Security Program looked up at the rumbling sky and glared at it, “You’d better not be laughing, Flynn! A good User would be helping me!”

Tron shook his head and rolled his eyes as the thunder rumbled loudly. Surely that was Flynn laughing. Tron felt the ground grow uneven as he reached the Outlands. The rock formations would make it more difficult to look for the Discs, and if they weren’t powered, he would be looking only for the shapes and nothing more. Tron sighed sourly as he took off Flynn’s robe and kept walking. If nothing else, his circuits would provide some light.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey Alan? Could you take a look at this?” Sam called as he removed his necklace and tossed it at his godfather. Alan caught it and examined at the memory chip, frowning. 

“Why are you wearing a memory chip, Sam?” Alan asked with a carefully raised eyebrow. Quorra looked up from her book, her brows furrowed as she listened. Sam shrugged, trying to retain a note of casualness under the scrutinizing gaze of his godfather and his friend.

“Keeps him close,” Sam murmured as he walked over to Marvin’s dog bed and sat down beside it. The eager Boston Terrier ran over and sat down beside Sam, nudging his hand for hopeful pets, “Thanks for helping me with the computer by the way, Alan. I appreciate it.”  
Alan chuckled to himself as he plugged in the memory chip, “Been a long time since anyone’s asked me to help them on a program or two. I’m glad to be of service, Sam,” Alan fell silent as he worked away at the computer. The massive, table-like object had been moved from the Arcade’s basement by Sam and Quorra a few hours before, and Sam had called Alan to help him set everything up.

“By the way, Al, how familiar are you with Lora’s lasers?” Sam asked suddenly.

Alan stilled, his body stiff as a board. Quorra stood quickly and approached the aging programmer as Sam pat Marvin and got up. Lora had divorced Alan years ago. Sam always thought Alan had gotten over the unfortunate divorce, but perhaps he was wrong. Alan never did speak about her...  
 “Alan?”

“Sam..... Why is my Tron Program active on this system?” Alan asked in a slow, steady voice. Sam hurried over to stand beside Alan, tripping over an eager Marvin as he walked. Alan was pressing buttons and scanning through things.

“Tron’s active?” Sam asked as he looked at the Grid. It looked barren. All signs of his father’s touch were absorbed into the base codes. But Alan’s program was fully functioning. Sam pursed his lips. This would definitely make things more difficult.  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *dusts off fic, purses lips at extraneous pieces, silently decides on how to clean it* Have a new chapter while I start maintenance on this colossal mess~! :D

It was nearing a milicycle that Tron had been out, looking for his Discs, and he was growing uneasy. Amongst the dark expenses of lifelessness, his scanners were cautioning him of Grid activity nearby, in the form of growing Gridbugs. Tron was beginning to run through his options if the Gridbugs became active while he was near. There weren’t many. All of them ultimately resulted in him running away, no matter how he did it. 

“I should to go back,” Tron declared to the nothingness as he turned in a circle. Nothing as far as the eye could see. The only thing keeping Tron from jumping on his Lightcycle and heading back to the I/O tower was the knowledge that the Gridbugs would be swarming the area if he came back after a milicycle or two. This was his only time to search. He checked his status, monitoring his exhaustion. He probably had two more milicycles before he’d be forced into shutdown anyways, if he didn’t do anything too strenuous. 

Torn between running to safety and remaining a bit longer to avoid the encroaching Gridbugs in the long run, Tron decided to stay a bit longer. He hadn’t been looking for what he felt to be a justifiable length of time yet. He was only just reaching the outer perimeter of where The Rectifier had been at the location where he’d lost his Discs, which meant he had to be close. Tron knew Flynn would have been laughing at him.

“A justifiable length of time, man? You could be searching for the next ten cycles and you wouldn’t consider it a justifiable length of time. You’ll just keep changing your opinion until you find your discs. That’s the way you are. It’s not good enough until it’s done.” 

Tron sighed. He knew his mind-Flynn was right. But one of the things Flynn always seemed to forget was that Tron did have a sense of self-preservation when Users were not concerned. He would continue searching. Just a bit longer. Until he was tired.

A blip in the system made Tron stop his search. He looked around slowly, his scanners sweeping the area. The Gridbugs were becoming active. Tron took a deep breath as he began to walk more swiftly away from the growing activity. The dark, jagged rocks were beginning to take on a menacing air as Tron scanned his surroundings anxiously. It was like a wave overtaking the system. 

Tron’s nerve shattered like a derezzing program as a massive energy surge overtook the immediate area. Turning back the way he came, Tron sprinted as the ground around him began to crack into blue fissures, slowly taking the shapes of the Gridbugs. Baton in hand, Tron activated his lightcycle as the Gridbugs started to focus on the only piece of coding still active on the Grid. From all sides, the ground erupted into circuit-blue creatures. Some seemed intent on eating away at pieces of the Grid, most, however, focused on Tron.

The world was flying by at a rush of speed, barely noticeable to the Program who’s eyes were only on the inactive building that seemed so far away. The I/O tower felt like a sanctuary in the nothingness, too far to be reached, but too close to give up. Then, an abnormal glint of light caught his eye. It was a long shot. It might have been an inactive Gridbug, but he took his chances where he was given them and spun the Lightcycle around to grab the abnormal objects. Two of them. Tron tried to calm his hopes as his hands wrapped around a pair of familiar, circular objects. Two of them, almost connected. 

Tron could have laughed with joy as he locked his central Disc onto his back. Within seconds, his coding realigned itself and he kicked his lightcycle into full speed. Idly, Tron placed the other on the baton-mount on his leg. Finally, for the first time in almost 16 milicycles, Tron was assured of himself. Keeping the Lightcycle tight under his control, he turned sharply and raced back towards the flat plains that made up Tron City once. Even as the Gridbugs continued to pursue him, Tron felt a sense of relief flooding over him as he bounced roughly onto the smooth Grid. He could see the I/O tower at the far side of the barren land. The Gridbugs wouldn’t spawn from on the smoothed out portion of the Grid, and now that Tron had his discs back, he could create a barrier around the foundations of Tron City. 

When he was within a close range of the I/O tower, Tron slowed down the lightcycle and leapt off of it. He watched as the Baton flew away, stuttering to a stop. He then turned and brought up his readout on his Identity disk.

Tron couldn’t program the Grid. Not like Flynn could. But he could make changes to protect it. A massive, blue wall of energy suddenly burst from the ground, surrounding Tron and the I/O tower.

Tron smiled as he watched the Gridbugs run into the light-wall and derezz against it. It was not a permanent solution, by any means.

But it would definitely serve its purpose for now.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“And..... ya... I think that catches you up to speed?” Sam shrugged helplessly as he looked to Quorra for her input. She shrugged as well and offered one of her confused but happy smiles. She hadn’t caught on to the tension in the room yet.

She usually didn’t.

Alan was still sitting in front of the desk, rubbing his forehead. He had long since removed his glasses, all while listening to Sam’s speech. Sam couldn’t blame him. It was a lot to take in..

“Alan?” Sam called hesitantly. The programmer looked up at him, his expression one of long-suffering. He then took a deep breath, put his glasses on, and set a grim look on his face.

“Well... That explains a lot.”

Sam blinked, “You’re taking this well?”

Alan smirked up at Sam, “You obviously don’t know everything about me, Sam Flynn, if you think this is going to shock me into cardiac arrest. I spent more than enough years with your father that nothing surprises me anymore,” Alan chuckled as he got up, fluffed his hair, and fixed his jacket, “I’m gonna go back to my place and see if I still have Lora’s old files on setting up the laser. You said you have it out back? Bring it in. I’ll back in about twenty minutes, depending on the traffic on Sepulveda,” Alan announced as he grabbed his keys and headed towards the door.

“Woah, wait!” Sam cried, “Just like that?! Alan, the Grid’s a mess! We can’t just go in there without a plan!”

Alan looked over at Sam and smiled, “The night we broke into ENCOM, your Dad had one of the most amazing adventures of his life. I knew that bastard was holding out on me. I’m not about to let an opportunity like this pass by, Sam,” Alan put a hand on Sam’s shoulder, offered a winning smile that made him look 20 years younger, then nudged him aside and went to his car. Within seconds, he was driving back towards the city, leaving Quorra, Sam, and Marvin all staring at the receding car....

“Well,” Quorra said, breaking the silence with a happy chirp, “Guess it’s time to start cleaning up the Grid, huh SamFlynn? Let’s see what we can do!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I see this thing go up in views, or I receive a kudos on it, I think to myself "Why are people reading this?! It's terrible!"  
> And then I feel guilty because I actually do have a chapter usually half-written up most of the time...
> 
> This chapter was half-written about three weeks ago, and then finished tonight. It's rough, the tone's a bit uneven, and I don't know if I like how I ended it, but I do actually plan on going back and fixing up this story, so don't feel like your stuck with this half-assed work!  
> And the story should be picking up now~! :D We've gone up the hill, it's gonna be a straight road for the next little while!
> 
> Well... I say "straight"

Tron wasn’t sure what time he’d offlined himself, or how long he was in non-function mode, but something on the Grid had changed. Something was stirring within the very code of the digital space. An electrical hum was stirring in the air. Codes were being rewritten, functions being reconfigured. Tron could feel the system altering and reforming. Tron bit his lip as he looked around.

The I/O Tower was dark, but with his Discs, Tron could change that easily. His Black guard disk was still resting on the mount where his lightcycle belonged, but he wasn’t quite comfortable with connecting the other disc with his own just yet. Removing his Identity Disc, Tron put it into a dark console. A blue panel lifted from the Disc, showing a series of commands. After reading through a few options, Tron began to activate the I/O tower. Lights suddenly flickered to life along the walls, the circuitry brightening the dark building. Consoles began to flicker to life, coming online after being dark for cycles upon cycles. The I/O tower hadn’t functioned since before Clu’s time. 

Tron nodded to himself proudly before stepping outside. The massive blue wall was still very much alive and properly functioning. Gridbugs trying to reach the Grid were being held back, derezzing if they came into contact with the wall. Tron glanced skyward and smirked.

“I’m doing pretty well on my own, wouldn’t you agree, Flynn?” Tron called out. Thunder rumbled loudly and Tron rolled his eyes, “Yes, I suppose you are counting yourself, aren’t you?” Tron snapped, “But you aren’t physically presence, and that’s the difference!” Thunder rumbled again and Tron scowled, “Well, of course I’m talking to myself! Who else do I have to talk to?”   
Tron walked back into the I/O tower, now that it was finished awakening, and took his Identity Disc out of the Console. Given his circumstances, and sensation of the Grid moving beneath his very feet, Tron decided it was about time he try to contact the Users.

“I wonder if anyone’s out there,” He murmured aloud as he walked up the steps to the elevator. Tron was never all that sure why the I/O towers had to be so big, or why they had to be so many floors that held absolutely nothing. Back on the ENCOM system, Dumont had said it was because it was easier to communicate with the Users if the connection was closer. 

Tron doubted that was the case for the Grid though. Then again, Flynn did add quite a few superfluous functions to the Grid for the sole purpose of familiarity and nostalgia... Perhaps that was why the I/O tower was so high.

Tron found himself tapping his foot impatiently as the elevator continued to rise. The End of Line Club had always reminded him of the I/O tower, although its size paled in comparison. That was probably why Flynn had put the I/O tower off to the side. 

“That, and the fact that we never really needed to communicate with you because you were always here,” Tron reasoned with a shrug, “No point of an input/output tower when the User to communicate with is always in here. Honestly, Flynn, this had to be the most superfluous structure you built!”

Thunder rumbled outside and Tron found himself wanting to kick Flynn, if he were still alive, “You don’t need to point out the obvious, Flynn, I know I’m using it currently! But its not like you knew this was going to happen, so you don’t have any footing in this argument!”

There was a sudden flash of lightening followed by a crack of thunder. Tron smiled, “Fine fine... Keep laughing...” He murmured as the elevator doors finally opened. Tron stepped onto the communications floor, feeling more than a little underwhelmed. Since there was no point in talking to a User, there was no Guardian to protect the sacred space that was Input/Output location. There was nothing precious or grand about it. The space was just... there...

“Function will always be more important than appearance, I suppose,” Tron murmured wryly as he walked over to the center platform and pulled out his disc. He stared at it thoughtfully for a moment, suddenly becoming aware of the feeling of hope stirring in his stomach. If the Users weren’t there... If this change in the Grid was nothing more than the Grid experiencing some fluctuations of one form or another....

Tron wasn’t exactly sure what he’d do if there was no answer...

He held up his disc, flinching and blinking blearily against the bright light of the beam and watched as the beam of blue light lifted his disc into the air before sending it shooting off. His arms fell to his side as he waited for some form of a response. Any sort of acknowledgement.

“Tron?...... Location query confirm?”   
Tron blinked. That sounded like..

“SamFlynn? Confirmed?”   
“Is that a question or a statement, Program?”  
Tron found himself struggling to maintain a thought process. He recognized SamFlynn. Remembered him from Rinzler. He also remembered Flynn’s endless nattering about his new Son so many Cycles ago. SamFlynn was alive? And working on the Grid?

“Tron?”   
“System has been locked down and secured of Gridbugs, SamFlynn. I have preformed my duties as per my directive,” Tron answered automatically, not sure what else to say. There was silence for some time on the other line. Then...

“If I were to open the Portal, could you give me an exact location to where I would enter?” 

At this, Tron’s eyes widened. The thought of having a User back on the Grid was, in a word, relieving. Tron had begun to think he might have been operating on false hope, as he had so many years ago. He was afraid he’d been forgotten. That he would exist until the end of time on the Grid with no answer. However, the question concerned him greatly.

“I could not, SamFlynn. The initial entrance point of the Grid was programmed by Flynn to be at his Arcade, however that structure is no longer operative. It is possible the entrance point has been moved back to the Portal. If this is the case, however, I fear you would be outside of the protective barrier I have built around the foundations of the City. I could not guarantee your safety.” 

“Could I program a new entrance point from outside of the Grid?”   
“I-” Tron bit his lip and looked away from the bright light, considering his answer carefully, “I’m not sure, SamFlynn. I am unaware of the parameters of the Digitizing Laser’s programming. It is highly possible that something could be done from outside, however if that were the case, I could not tell you how to do it.”

“Alright. Thanks, Tron. Standby, okay? Um.... God,” Tron glanced back up towards the light. Was Sam typing this into the computer? Did he really need to think by typing everything down? How typically Flynn-ish... “Okay. One milicycle is 8 hours on the grid which is about 10 minutes here. We should have everything figured out by then. Can you standby for one milicycle, Tron? After it’s passed, try to reestablish contact with us, okay?”

“Confirmed... What if you do not reply?” Tron asked a bit anxiously. The thought of being left in the silence without the assuredness of a respond was, in Tron’s mind, absolutely terrifying.

“We’ll set a timer. I promise. We won’t forget you, Tron.”   
“Who’s we?” Tron called back, but he didn’t get a reply. His Disc was returned to him a moment later, and the beam of light disappeared. The connection had been severed. Tron looked around the dark room, a sense of loss in his chest, but also deep determination biting around the edges. 

“If SamFlynn is incapable of moving the entrance point from the Portal, I have to be ready to protect him once he enters the Grid,” Tron said aloud to himself, “I will not fail in protecting him. Not again.” 

The thunder rumbled outside, loud and code-shaking. Tron looked up at the ceiling, wondering if Kevin could hear him, “I won’t let what happened to you happen to your son, Flynn. I promise.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking about this fic a lot lately, so I'm gonna try and get two chapters done today~! I know the chapters feel a bit quick, but I promise they will start getting longer soon!

Lightcycle calibrations were something that Tron had never been good with. Kevin had tried to teach the security monitor how to properly modify the coding of the light cycle to improve its functions, but Tron just didn’t have the right mind for it. However, with a milicycle at his disposal and very little else to do except worry about what will happen if Sam does enter the Grid, Tron decided he’d give it a shot. His lightcycle used to be far faster, thanks to being a “Generation 1” as Flynn had so affectionately called it. However, the unfortunate cycle had been destroyed utterly during a rather intense game, leaving Tron to have to use one of the new Cycles.

They were far easier to handle, and much more agile, but they just lacked the speed that Tron was used to. He liked having a vehicle that pushed back, it gave him a challenge! This new thing just never seemed to work quite right.

“Not your fault though,” Tron said idly as he pat the side of his Lightcycle fondly, “I never really gave you a chance. You’ve done me well,” Tron assured as he continued to stare down at the holographic touch-pad that was coming from the Cycle. He wished he had paid more attention to all the times his Lightcycle had been improved. He could recall the time he had gone to Clu, complaining that his Lightcycle was slow. Clu had rolled his eyes and smirked at Tron while he recalibrate the vehicle to Tron’s specifications. Before the Coup, Clu and Tron had been well....

Friends...

Tron sighed as he sat back on his heels and stared at his Lightcycle, “It wasn’t his fault,” Tron murmured to the darkness, “I still blame him for what he did to me, but... He did as he was set out to do. He made the Grid perfect...”

Tron looked down at his hands and squeezed them tightly into fists, “I wonder if he made me perfect to... If Rinzler was my full potential...” 

Tron shook his head. Clu’s directive had always been different from Tron’s. Tron was from an ancient system that worshipped the Users. Clu did not understand the peaceful, all-consuming sensation of being able to speak with your User, of being upgraded by them. It was a feeling of specialness. Of being wanted. None of the Programs on the Grid had been able to understand that feeling. It made Tron different... 

Tron suddenly broke into a smile, “I can never be perfect in his eyes... Not when my sole purpose in life is to Fight for the Users... Users make things imperfect. As long as they have a hand in it, it can never be to a Program’s standards of perfection....” Tron murmured thoughtfully.

Then he looked over at his Lightcycle and smiled, “And I don’t think you ever will be either, Friend,” He declared as he got up, “However, I did what I could. Hopefully that will be enough,” Tron tapped the touch screen and it reabsorbed into the Lightcycle, which then derezzed back into its baton. Tron placed it at his side before picking up the Identity Disc he’d been holding onto since he’d found it.

It was weird, really, thinking about this Disc. It hadn’t always been his. Once, many many cycles ago, it had belonged to a Blackguard he’d derezzed. He shouldn’t have been able to grab it from the Program, but he did. Tron wasn’t sure why at the time, but rather than stand there and question it, he’d used his new weapon to help neutralize the threat of the Blackguards. 

Then Rinzler had used it for many many cycles. Rinzler was Tron once... Somewhere in his code was still that singleminded hunger to eliminate threats to Clu’s Perfect Grid and derezz anyone that got in his way. But that was a very quiet part of his code now, buried deep inside that Tron just couldn’t quite come to peace with yet.

“One day,” He said, “What did you used to say, Flynn? Opening up the can of worms or something like that? Such a weird User reference. Worms are undesirable except as bait for action of fishing, which Humans find pleasurable. However, in the reference, it does not specify that the action of fishing is occurring. Instead you are simply opening up a can of something undesirable so why- Oh....” Tron suddenly grinned, “Opening up something that is undesirable. The worms are a metaphor past issues! I get it now!” Tron cried in delight. He ran to the elevator to look outside.

“I get your human reference now, Flynn! It makes sense now! It’s bizarre, but I get it!” Tron cried joyfully. Lightening struck nearby and thunder rolled as Tron laughed happily. He finally understood it. After cycles upon cycles of listening to Kevin talk about opening worm cans, Tron finally understood it.

He couldn’t help but feel a strange amount of pride in himself for finally understanding it.

“You and your strange human references. Zen things and biodigital jazz... I hope your son understand your oddities, Flynn, because I’m not spending another thousand cycles trying to figure out what those mean when I can just ask,” Tron informed the sky as he walked back over to the platform and sat down, “Just a bit longer now. Hopefully Sam and his other companions are able to figure out what’s going on.”

It had occurred to Tron in the last .1 milicycles that it was possible they couldn’t get onto the Grid anymore. Perhaps the Laser was so old it would not be possible. Or perhaps Sam would not want to risk it. Tron felt a twinge of guilt as he recalled Sam’s first introduction to the Disc Wars on the Grid.

“If only you knew, Sam. Your Dad wanted to make it so special for you. He had all these plans, a huge welcoming party. He wanted so much for you to be happy here, as he was,” Tron whispered as he let out a pained sigh, “When did I start talking to myself so much? Maybe SamFlynn can alter my code to get rid of that nasty little habit I picked up.”

Tron could hear the thunder rumbling outside and, suddenly struck with a memory, he gave an odd gesture to the elevator door. It was a gesture that he could recall Flynn giving to Clu a few times when they argued. It was supposed to be vulgar. Tron definitely wasn’t going to hurt his processors trying to understand that reference

Just as Tron was ready to sit down and go through his own coding, his mental alarm system went off, informing him that it had been one milicycle. Tron marveled at how long he’d spent working on his Lightcycle as he stepped onto the platform and lifted his disc into the air. He then remembered something Flynn had told him years ago.

_“Now Tron, I’m gonna try and get here at 8 o’clock sharp, every night man... But I’m a User, and you know how Users are.”_

_Tron smirked, “Unreliable, incapable of rational thought, emotional, sensitive, no understanding of how their own invention of time works?” He offered with a grin._

_Kevin had laughed, although a bit uneasily, “Still angry with me about the Grid bugs in Sector Gamma?” He asked with a weak grin. Tron raised his eyebrow and let his actions speak for himself. Kevin had laughed at that, shaken his head, and grinned, “Alright alright. I’m sorry. But look, what I was getting at was that sometimes, Users get stuck in traffic. Sometimes we get caught up talking. I’m gonna try for 8, but if I’m a milicycle late or two sometimes, you can’t be panicking. Remember, time passes a lot faster here, and sometimes I forget that 10 minutes late out there means 8 hours late in here. You gotta promise me you’ll keep your head on your shoulders man. Don’t send out the cavalry if I’m just not showing up.”_

_Tron nodded, a small smirk on his face, “I understand completely, Flynn. However, you also have a family to consider, so I assume there will be some nights you are incapable of coming?”_

_Kevin nodded, “Right you are, my man! I’ll try and let you know those nights, even if they just come in through the I/O tower, okay? Somehow, I’ll let you guys know!”_

_Tron smiled, “Alright Flynn.”  “Because sometimes, I don’t have time to go through the laser and-”_

_“I understand Flynn,’” Tron assured_

_“-and I don’t want you getting worried man, because that’d be shit of me, and I-”_

_“Flynn?” Tron called, dragging the Programmer out of his thoughts, “It’s time to go.”_

_“Huh?” Flynn glanced over at the Portal, “Oh ya. Right. Heh. What would I do without you, Tron?”_

_“Get stuck in here, probably,” Tron muttered dryly, “No go, User! Don’t make me push you through!”_

_Kevin had laughed, blown a kiss to Tron, and jumped through the Portal, his Disc flying upward, and Flynn disappearing._

Tron watched as his own Disc disappeared through the beam, brought back to himself, “If only we knew,” He murmured thoughtfully.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about how long this took. Honestly? I started writing this three months ago, and had intended for it to be finished maybe a week after I posted the last chapter. Unfortunately, the document where I was now saving the fic to was placed in a weird part of my computer and I lost it until about two weeks ago. Then I was struggling to figure out how to take this chapter because I didn't want to make it too boring.
> 
> Thank you so much for your patience guys! I'm working on it! Slow and steady, but I'm so relieved that I didn't lose my work. I'd worked so hard on this chapter and thinking I'd lost it just broke my heart. But it's back, and I'm back, and everything is good~! :D
> 
> EDIT: I JUST REALIZED I TOTALLY FUCKED UP POSTING CHAPTER 5 AND THERE WAS A WHOLE SECTION MISSING! IT WASN'T VERY IMPORTANT BUT HOLY CRAP THAT CHAPTER LOOKED WEIRD WITHOUT THE FIRST PART! I AM SO SORRY! I FIXED IT! IF YOU WANT TO GO BACK AND RE-READ IT NOW THAT IT SOUNDS COHERENT, I DO ENCOURAGE YOU TO DO SO!

“Tron_JA_307020. Location query. Confirm?”

 This wasn’t Sam... This was a female...

“Confirmed. Identity query. To whom am I speaking to?”

“I am ISO Quorra. Greetings Program!” 

Tron smiled. He could recall Quorra, however faintly. He had interacted with her for a very short time on the Grid. A sweet girl. He was glad she had survived Clu’s purge. 

“Greetings, ISO. I was informed by SamFlynn to check in at the end of one Grid milicycle. The milicycle has just come to a close,” Tron said, not sure what else to add. He didn’t exactly know what was going on, after all. He couldn’t inquire on the progress of anything.

“Perfect! SamFlynn and Alan_1 have just-”

Tron’s systems stalled. His code trembled and his body twitched. Quorra continued talking, but Tron wasn’t listening. Alan_1.... Was alive? He was there? Quorra had met him? Sam knew him? Did he....

“Alan_1? He’s there?” Tron whispered, his voice nearly inaudible to his own functions panicking at the meaning of this new information

“Correct. He is your User, yes?” 

“Yes,” Tron responded, “I have not had contact with him for many many cycles,” Tron murmured, thinking back to ENCOM, and Flynn, and the MCP, and Alan_1. It hadn’t been the last time they’d spoken, but it was the time Tron remembered most fondly. It was the first time his thirst to contact his user had been quenched. It was a wonderful and painful memory. “Alan_1... He is well?” 

“Let me ask!” Silence reigned for about ten minutes, during which Tron could barely hear anything above the roar in his ears of panic and jubilation and terror and hope, “Tron?”

“I am still present,” Tron assured weakly. He wondered idly if he’d faint. Flynn had fainted once. It was terrifying. Tron wasn’t sure what he’d do if he fainted. Probably collapse, if Flynn’s episode had been anything to go by. Probably black out, as well. Worrisome. Tron filed the action under “Do not attempt”.

“Alan_1 reports that he is quite well, a bit surprised about the turn of tonight’s events, and also very pleased to hear that you are still preforming your duties.” 

Tron nodded dumbly. It was like....Like Alan_1 had never left. Tron suddenly felt safer now, more sure of himself. Everything would be fine. Alan_1 was here, and he was overseeing everything. It would all be just fine. Alan_1 would know what to do. Flynn had flown into things blindly, without regard for potential fallout. Alan_1 was different. He’d know what he was doing.  
 “SamFlynn has properly set up the Digitizing Laser, but is concerned about his entrance point. He intends to enter the Grid in three minutes. Will you be able to reach the Portal in the Grid’s equivalent time?”

Tron pursed his lips as he considered this carefully. The Sea of Simulation was still very much alive, and though Tron had survived it before, he couldn’t be sure he’d be able to swim across it. However, with that being said...

“No Gridbugs will spawn close to the Portal. The Portal is set on an Island on the Sea of Simulation. Once Sam passes through, if he is able to build a land bridge, I could escort him the rest of the way to to the City,” Tron explained, “But I have no way of reaching the Portal from the City on my own. All lightjets and vehicles of a similar nature have been derezzed.”

Quorra went silent, and Tron wondered if she was relaying his information to SamFlynn. When she returned, she sounded faster, as though she were typing very frantically, “SamFlynn has said that your proposed suggestion will do. Please vacate the I/O tower immediately, Tron_JA_307020. A User will be arriving shortly.”

A moment later, Tron’s disc returned to his hands and the line was severed. For a brief, indulgent moment, Tron wondered if Alan_1 would come to the Grid... If he’d be able to meet his User face to face!

But then he decided against it. SamFlynn did not need the idle musings of a hopeful Program. He needed a Security Monitor, and that was written into Tron’s very code. He went to the Elevator and made his way down, his gaze turning skyward.

“Well, Flynn, he’s coming. I’m sorry its still not the celebration you’d have wanted.... But I will do my best to keep him safe,” Tron assured as the elevator door came to a stop on the first floor. Tron strode out and to the entrance of the I/O tower. The massive light-wall surrounding the city would have to be temporarily removed, just long enough for Tron to cross over. In that time, Tron did not doubt that there would be a small swarm of Gridbugs overtaking the land.

“I hope SamFlynn has not lost his fighting spirit,” Tron murmured as he rezzed his Lightcycle and kicked off. The I/O tower had always been positioned closer to the Sea of Simulation. Tron suspected it had something to do with connection to the Portal, although he couldn’t be certain. The massive blue wall was coming closer. Tron stopped his Lightcycle before he could strike the wall and pulled up the layout of the Grid. He deactivated the wall and shot through as the roar of Gridbugs came from somewhere far off. For some reason, the part of the Grid closer to the Sea of Simulation was not spawning Gridbugs yet. 

Tron crossed the edges of the city and reactivated the wall before driving off again. By the feel of the land, Tron estimated it would be no longer than an eighth of a milicycle before the Gridbugs would start to form in the area. If Sam took as long as Quorra had suggested he would, Tron would be knee deep in Gridbugs before Sam would even enter.

Activating his helmet, Tron kicked the lightcycle into high gear, a lightwall forming behind him as he let the feel of the undeveloped Grid tell him where to steer. Back on the ENCOM system, the world was underdeveloped in areas, but there were always circuits that a program could follow from one network to the next. The Outlands had no such development. It was part of the reason why most Lightcycles didn’t work out there.

When Tron reached the edge of the Sea of Simulation, he derezzed his lightcycle and came to the frustrating realization that he had nothing else to do but wait for the Portal to open. Far off in the distance, barely visible in the darkness of the Grid, the platform that the Portal spawned on seemed incredibly far away. Tron found himself staring, wondering if things could have been different if he’d gotten the baton away from Clu. 

What would have happened if he had reunited with Flynn, and properly introduced himself to Sam and Quorra? Would they have returned to the Grid sooner, with Flynn teaching Sam all about programming the Grid? Would SamFlynn have become apart of the Grid’s daily life, like Flynn, creating programs and coming around at all hours to check on his project? Would Alan_1 have come back sooner, wanting to be apart of this world?

Thunder roared overhead and Tron couldn’t help but laugh at himself, “You’re right, Flynn... I’m getting too caught up on the what-ifs. But to be fair, I’m a security Program, I must take all routes into consideration!” 

Lightening cracked nearby and Tron smiled, “Alright... I can leave it in the past, I suppose.... For now, anyways.”


End file.
